Doubt? What Doubt?

Ok, so I have to admit, with two strikes,two outs in the 9th inning and the Cardinals facing a 4-2 deficit, at Houston none-the-less, I had my doubts. Just an inning and a half earlier, the Astros' Lance Berkman had effectively driven the proverbial knife through my heart with his three run homer off of Cardinals' ace, Chris Carpenter. "This can't be happening," I thought to myself. The sudden realization of the Cardinals pending elimination, all the hard work gone in 5 measly games and our iconic Busch stadium no longer being of use, had finally weighed down unto my stunned soul. "This isn't over!", I angrily and defiantly yelled to my sister, but the tears slowly coming to roll down my face told otherwise. And so, with those two outs and two strikes in the top of that ninth inning, my sister and I watched the Cardinals' set-up man David Eckstein deliver a hit that extended the game and our season, in patient silence. The only sound to be heard was the room's loose fan, creaking as it slowly rounded, almost as if we were in a hospital room and a loved one lay on their death bed. My sister and I had decided that we would watch the game until the last out, with the plan to change the channel as soon as we saw the game come to an unmistakeable end. We wanted to make sure it was over, but didn't want to watch, or hear, the city of Houston celebrate. "keep your finger on the buttons!", I yelled at Nan. "I know, I know!!!", she yelled back. We were also intent on muting out the play by play anouncers, as they had begun to describe how long the Houston Astros were waiting for this moment. This wasn't a moment to cheer for Cardinal fans. It was one of mourning over the loss of our season and stadium. My sister and I were not going to let that sacred moment become ruined by Houston's jubilation and the broadcasters' insensative comments that were effectively announcing us dead, even as we were still making our last attempts to breathe. Edmonds came up to the plate and I still yelled to Nan to keep her finger on the remote. "Game 6, Game 6, Game 6...", she chanted, referring to Edmonds dramatic walk-off homer in game 6 of the NLCS, a game we had attended a year earlier. "No, No, that won't happen", I sullenly replied. And yet, with the creaking fan above us, we watched, almost in a trance. It was too painful to watch, yet too important to abandon. "Can you turn off the fan?"Nan asked, and in an almost comical way, the fan's creaking seemed to die away as a heart monitor would in a hospital room. But Edmonds drew a walk from the unshakeable Brad Lidge and the best hitter in the game came up to the plate. The game sort of built up for this At-Bat. Pujols had failed to deliver any runners in scoring position both in the 1st and 3rd innings. Still, Pujols is the best hitter in the game and if this game was going to end, at least it would with our best chance out there on the field, in the batter's box. With an 0-1 count, Lidge left a hanging slider for Pujols to hit a monster 3 run game winning homer. Flair for the dramatics? Yes. A beating pulse for the Cardinals? Yes. Two girls screaming, jumping and clutching each other like over-grown infants? Yes. Of Course. Boy was that home-run amazing. Our beloved Cardinals' win left us in a sort of daze. We walked around in a dream-like state, repeating the words, "I can't believe that", over and over again. With the miracle fresh in our minds, my sister and I went off to pray. There was no other way to explain it, it had to be some sort of divine intervention. Even if you don't believe in that sort of thing, you have to admit, that was a pretty special Home Run. Sure the Cardinals are still down 3-2 in the series, but until Wednesday night Cardinal fans can rest assure that our ball park and team are still alive and kickin'. Our big guys pulled through. We turned off that creaking fan, only to hear that towering shot give our team a strengthening heart beat. Andy Pettitte was seen in the dug-out reacting to that Home-Run with an "oh...my..Gosh." Astro fans were heard screaming, "Nooooooooo", in the dramatic way only seen in movies. Cardinal fans presumably all turned their fans back on, in need of cooling down after all that jumping and hollering they endured, explaining to each other the moment they knew we still had a shot at this thing. Then, slumped in exhausted relief. Oh my Gosh, indeed.